


A 'Man' with a 'Plan'

by sylvain



Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018)
Genre: Canon Divergence - the Turtles don't do well in cold temperatures, First winter since befriending April, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:08:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21917293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvain/pseuds/sylvain
Summary: During a winter cold snap, Raph has a plan to help Donnie fix the heaters in the lair... kinda.For: (@official-sans-undertale)TMNT Secret Santa 2019 (@tmnt-secret-santa)Secret Santa request: Donnie, April, Raphael (RotTMNT)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 131





	A 'Man' with a 'Plan'

Raphael doesn't plan. That's how he went from sharing his bedroom with one soft-shelled brother, huddled at the foot of his bed, to the tangle of limbs reminiscent of an octopus attack that was currently locking him in place. 

It was a shock, that first night, to roll over in his sleep and feel the cushion of Donnie’s insulated winter-shell pressed up under the soles of his feet. Thank goodness, for Donnie's sake, Raph's instinct had been to freeze. If he had kicked out instead, well, Raph didn’t want to think about what kind of injury his brother could have incurred. He didn't want to consider the possibility that he would ever let harm come to any of his younger brothers, let alone be the cause of it. 

Raphael had waited until morning to ask Don about the sneaky snuggle. That's when he learned that Donnie’s heat lamp had broken again, and what was usually a quick fix was currently impossible with what scant supplies filled the bins in his room. Raphael held back a sigh to acknowledge his brother's struggle with a soft clasp of his shoulder. 

Donnie had run out of spare parts. 

Part of the problem with having a code of ethics was that it prevented them from stealing from actual shops or homes. With their supply of light bulbs and wires coming from dumpsters, it can be difficult to find the right kind of bulb (and one with filament that isn’t beyond repair).

When Raphael began to suggest they head to the Best Buy on 5th - surely they’ve chucked some broken merch or trade-ins or _something_ \- Donnie had looked over at his oldest brother with a sullen expression. Raphael saw how deep Donnie’s exhaustion ran. 

Since the Autumn breeze turned to Winter chill, Donnie hasn’t strayed far from his computers. But instead of spending his hours inventing some crazy, jaw-dropping gadgets, he was usually curled up under sweaters and blankets at his desk. The machines and screens give off their own warmth, Raph supposed. Of course Donnie wouldn’t have wanted to head into the aboveground city. Especially not with the forecasted snow on the way. 

And that, Raphael supposes, is how he got stuck with all three of his younger brothers in his bed for the rest of the weekend. One by one they found their way into his room to report their heaters were broken and Donatello was missing. And once they saw the extra lump or two under the comforter on Raphael’s bed, the others didn’t ask permission before piling on with their own blankets trailing behind them. 

Leo snores, causing an annoying tickle in Raph’s right ear and bringing the snapping turtle out of his thoughts. Mikey and Donnie cuddle so close that they have Raph’s arms pinned. And Raph stares at the ceiling, only slightly amused by his predicament. He’s unable to move, even if just to wipe the spot of Leo’s drool from his temple. 

Immobile as he is, there’s no way he can sneak out of the bed, let alone the lair. And so, the only part of his ‘plan’ that resembled a plan at all felt shot to shell.

Then, Raphael remembered his training. He is _ninja_. He can fade into the night. Certainly, he can slip out of the sleepy hold of his brothers as they dreaming. 

Raphael bites his lip as he starts his own little pep talk. “You can do this. They won’t feel a thing. With a little finesse, you’ll slide down the mattress between them. Just hold your breath to avoid their sewer-feet-stank.” Raphael reminds himself again, “You… are ninja. You… are…”

A snarfle of a snore at his ear startles Raphael into action and soon he was shimmying toward the foot of the bed. So, he may get stuck where the bottom blanket is tucked under the mattress. And maybe Donnie’s grip on his arm is a bit stronger than he’d anticipated. But eventually, he rolls onto his hands and knees with a _ninja_ turtle’s grace and is able to scurry out of the bedroom at a crawl.

Raphael pops up to his feet and gives a few nervous pants before turning to check on his still sleeping brothers. They’ve seemingly sought each others’ warmth in his absence. Their breaths are still even and loud. Leo smacks his lips before resuming his snores. The younger turtles are a new configuration, sharing body heat and a mountain of patched quilts. Raphael is happy that they have found each other blindly, without waking.

He leaves his brothers to their dreams and lumbers toward the pile of clothing and costumes he and the other turtles wear topside when they need to blend in. But today, dressing up is less about not being revealed as a mutant and more about surviving the frigid temperatures that linger after the blizzard.

Even as he layers a coat over his sweater, the urge to go topside itches under Raphael's shell. He can understand why his brothers need a break from patrolling. The first night or two they'd had off had been nice, but it has been a week since any of the younger turtles asked about life on street level. It’s like if they could ignore the city, maybe it would ignore them too. 

Or maybe his brothers’ agoraphobia isn’t derived from the fact that they'd had their shells handed to them last time they went up against Draxem. Maybe it really is just the cold settling in. Whatever the reason for their decision to stay underground, Raphael can’t stay cooped up in the sewers. He needs the open air. He needs to stretch.

Using the stealth he’s honed alongside his brothers, Raphael sneaks past the usual exit to find one more suitable for his mission. He lifts the manhole cover and climbs to the street. 

He keeps to the shadows as he moves through the familiar neighborhood. With so many houses draped in twinkle lights and lawns riddled with hard-plastic figurines illuminated from within, finding shadows large enough to enshroud his significant form is something hard to do mid-December in New York. 

When it seems all hope for finding anything useful is lost, Raphael scales the fire escape of the tallest apartment building around, then settles himself upon the roof. 

Snow had fallen over the city that afternoon, adding a fresh dusting to the blanket of white dumped by the blizzard of the night before. The knee-deep snow under the lights of the moon twinkles. Raphael doesn’t think the moon could be this bright, shining through the clouds. But the moon was full tonight. The clouds overhead were thin. Certainly not the heavy grey cover that had loomed overhead/over New York for the better part of the week, foreboding of the snow. 

Of course, Raphael knew the snow was coming before he had seen the sky. He could feel it, smell it in the air. He could see the change in his younger brothers. The way the cold settled under their shells. They slowed, ate less, got quiet. Even Mikey. They each exhibit shifts toward hibernation in different ways, but the result is ultimately the same. 

Donnie’s enthusiasm for invention has fallen. When the night chill rolls in, he spends less time holed up in the lab. Preferring the warmth of company, he emerges from isolation in time to huddle with his brothers in front of the projector screen. At their father’s feet, they watch Lou Jitsu marathons until they are nodding off on each others’ shoulders. Mikey’s skateboard stands propped against the wall of his bedroom, abandoned. His interest in one of his favorite activities had quickly dropped off when the cold set into his bones. And Leo’s flood of smart mouth comments has all but dried up.

Raphael alone could withstand being topside these days. Pops either understands or he doesn’t notice Raph’s short trips aboveground. But to say he doesn’t care… well, Raph can’t believe that. The well-meaning rat had scavenged extra blankets and scarves for his sons, made sure there’s always a pot of water on the rickety old stove Donnie had pieced together when he had first become old enough to hold a screwdriver. Splinter even tried to set up fires in garbage cans around the lair. That didn’t go over quite so well; the smell of burning garbage, the smoke clogging their lungs and burning their eyes… The family had been sad to say goodbye to the promise of warmth that open fires provided, but they needed other options. 

And finding such an option was the excuse Raph gave Splinter when he asked for permission to come to street level. But after hours scouring the back alleys for a space heater or an updated oven or any of the things he’d seen advertised between Mikey’s shows on the cooking network, Raph has come up with nothing. 

Dejected and exhausted, he sits under the shelter of an air vent on the roof, his arms crossed over his chest, and sighs. 

“What’re you doin’ out here?”

Raphael startles. He would recognize April's voice anywhere, but he didn’t expect to hear it tonight. Not up here. Not in the cold. “Ya shouldn't be out here.” 

"Oh, and you should? Yeah. Right. Ok." April turns her back to Raph and takes three steps before spinning on her heel. Finger raised and face scrunched in determination, she gives him a piece of her mind. "You really think I'm gonna let my cold-blooded, hot-headed, mastermind friend freeze his butt off up here and not even bother to ask what's up?"

Raph puts on his most innocent, lopsided grin and shrugs.

April tuts and plops down in the snow beside him with a heavy sigh. "So, what's up, big guy?" The fabric of her puffy pants whispers against itself as she criss-crosses her legs.

"How did ya find me?"

"Donnie put tracker thingies in all our phones. Got an alert when you left the lair. Watched you roam around my neighborhood a while. Figured you needed a friend."

“Sorry. I was tryin’ to find us some heat."

"Heat?" 

"For home." Raphael stuffs his hands deeper into his pockets. 

"What about Donatello's lamps?" 

"Broke. Again. And Donnie’s been tired, y’know? Don’ wanna bother him, put any more pressure on him. It’s not his job to take care of us. That’s on me.” 

Raphael hangs his head as he stretches his legs out in front of him. His boots cut trenches through the snow. “I really wanted to find somethin-”

“Do you even know what you’re looking for?”

April's question only stings a little. Raphael chortles as he gives it honest consideration. He has to admit, digging through the dumpsters with only a mild understanding of electronics is like looking for a needle in a haystack.

“Maybe Donnie can tell you _what_ to get and then he can build somethin’ good.”

Raphael forms a ball of snow in his mittened hands, thinking about April's suggestion. “That sounds like a plan.” He lets the ball crumble over his thighs.

“Ugh. No. Plan? Yelch,” she vocalizes sarcastically. “We don’t do that kinda thing. This is just… helping out your bros and my bestie. I know he’s gotta be losing his mind with boredom just sitting down there like a lump. Ya know he actually offered to help Mikey make soup?”

Raphael scowls. “Who eats soup?”

“I’m totally gonna bring down some egg drop or matzo ball soup one day. Hot soup is good for winter.”

Raphael pulls a face of disgust. “Hot soup is good for yelling in the faces of the bad guys as you leap into battle. Or for throwing in the faces of the bad guys as you leap into battle. My body… is a temple. And it will not be eating something that smells like a grandma’s sink trap.”

“Soup does not smell like a...”

Raphael scrunches his face, unsure.

"You know what, forget the stinkin' soup, man. I’m not due home ‘til the afternoon - ditched a lame slumber party - so whaddya say we head back to the lair?"

It doesn’t sound like a terrible idea. Raph’s fingers and toes were feeling a little numb. But there’s one thing he wants to ask first. "You think you can help me get a few light bulbs from the pet store?"

April shoots up from her seated position. "Do you even need to ask? I mean, yes, of course you do. I can't read your mind!" She knocks on Raphael's head like she’s checking if anyone’s home. "Well,” the girl says with too much enthusiasm for the midnight hour, “good thing I got that job at Pet My Pet One Stop Shop for Pets.” Thrusting her hand in front of Raph’s face, April’s smile grew wider. A pair of keys jingle as they hang from the ring pinched between her fingers. 

“When did that happen?” Raph asks, though it’s par for the course that since meeting him and his brothers April hops from one job to the next. “And why would they give you a set of ke-”

“Let's get going!" 

⁂

When Raphael returns to the lair it's with a withering cardboard box of supplies in his arms and April in tow. The familiar tinkering of Donnie’s tools and the engineer’s rambling monologue to himself draws them to the arcade. 

"Knock knock," Raphael says as he raps his fist against Hyperstone Heist’s upright machine. The game was positively ancient and needed constant repairs, but Michelangelo insisted they hold onto the relic.

Donatello is usually excited to have an ear to listen to his plans for upgrades and inventions, even when his technical mumbo jumbo causes his brothers to scratch their heads and stare with their eyes glazed over. But Donnie doesn't bother pulling his head out from behind the riser. Though his response is a sing-song, “Go away,” it’s followed by a grumble that leaves Raph nervously gnawing on his lip. 

April's fists find her hips in an instant. "That's not how the joke goes," she gripes.

Thankfully, the sound of April’s presence is enough to inspire a pause in Donnie’s work.

Donatello peeks out before fully emerging from behind the game. “Hi, April.” He averts his gaze as his hand comes up to wiggle his fingers in a small greeting.

Raph thinks this is the first time he’s seen Donnie actually appear shy around their friend. 

The awkwardness must be obvious to April as well. And by the way she twists her mouth into an inquisitive pout, she doesn’t look like she’s having any of it. “Alright, Donnie, you have twelve seconds to tell me why you look like… _this._ ”

Raphael took stock of his brother. Besides having lost a bit of color since Summer faded into the gloomier months, he seemed the same. It wasn’t until Donatello tugged on the ear flaps of his trapper hat that Raph realized April hadn’t seen her BFF in winter wear before… in _any_ clothing before (besides costumes)... and certainly not while they were home. 

Raphael had stripped down to his shorts when he and April arrived, but his brother was dressed head to toe. Raph recognizes the telltale bulk of Donatello's insulated winter-shell under his heavy knit sweater, as well as the leg warmers stuffed inside the fuzzy boots they'd found behind a foreclosed _Hot Topic_.

April squints at the getup. “Are we fightin’ the abominable snowman? Cause dibs on the carrot nose, dudes; ya girl needs a snack.”

“You do know the abominable snowman isn’t actually a _snowman_ , don't you, O'Neill?” Donnie’s eyebrow disappeared underneath his hat as it arched in question.

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, April scoffs. “Have you met them yet?”

“No…” Donnie admits, though it sounds like he can’t believe April would think there was ever a time their crew _would_ encounter the myth. “I’m sorry did you say ‘yet’?”

April ignores the question. “Then how can you say for sure?” She doesn’t seem to expect an answer. Her attention has returned to her friend’s attire. “So, you’re really that cold, huh?”

The pile of blankets at Donnie’s desk caught Raph’s eye and he frowned. They wrapped around Donnie’s chair like a cocoon. 

April asks, “Did you sleep out here?”

His younger brother shrugs off the questions and, instead, nods toward the box in Raphael’s arms with a query of his own. “What’s all that?” 

As he steps in closer, the collection of bulbs, wires, and other miscellaneous has his jaw nearly on the floor. He extends his arms toward the treasure trove with grabby hands. His shocked expression curves into a grin. 

Raphael gladly hands over the goods. 

Immediately, Donatello digs into the materials for inspection. It seems like he has a project for every piece of junk Raph and April have gathered. 

Their human friend holds out her fist to Raphael for a victorious bump as she and the eldest turtle watched Donnie sort through his gifts. The soft-shell’s enthusiasm grows, as do his small piles of parts. 

As if suddenly remembering he has an audience, Donnie looks up from his spot on the floor with wide eyes and an even wider smile. “Th-thank you.” Donatello stands to pull April and Raphael into a hug. 

It doesn’t escape Raph’s notice that what would have once been an effortless leap into April’s arms was a much slower affair. The scraps were still just that; they hadn’t warmed the solf-shelled turtle. 

Raphael knows his brother is able to churn meaningless mechanics into true works of art. He only hopes that what he and April have found will be enough for his brother to build something that will last. If not, Raph is determined to brave the cold as many times as needed in order to provide for his family. 

April decides to assist Donnie with a different approach than what Raphael has in mind. Without invitation or preamble, the girl grabs one of the many toolboxes stashed under Donnie’s desk, sits at her best friend’s side, and reaches for a pair of tools. “Wrench or screwdriver?” She wields them with reverence and flair similar to how Leo brandishes his weapons.

“Wire splitter,” Donnie requests with an open palm. He takes the aforementioned tool and sets himself back to work, now with an assistant. 

Raph watches the two, wondering if there’s some way he can help without getting in the way. But April and Donatello are a seamless pair. Every once in a while April meets Raph’s gaze, as if silently acknowledging the slower speed with which Donatello moves. But other than that, her attention is dedicated to holding parts steady while the engineer builds portable heat units for the rooms of the lair. 

“I could, uh, grab the lamp from your bedroom, if you want,” Raphael offers uneasily. He hates to interrupt. He isn’t even sure Donatello is aware of his lingering presence.

The younger turtle rifles through the box of miscellany a moment before holding up a trio of light bulbs by way of an answer. “You could change these out for me.”

Raphael hesitates before accepting the small boxes. “You sure?” His hands are so much bigger than his brother’s. And everyone knows he doesn’t have the most delicate or steady touch. 

“You’ll do great!” Donnie encourages.

Even April lends a kind vote of confidence. “You got this, big guy.”

“Twist on, twist off,” Donatello instructs his older brother with a smile. “And bring me the busted bulbs when you’re done.”

“And order a pizza,” April adds.

Donatello looks at his watch. “It’s a little early for-”

“Then tell Mikey we want some waffles,” April declares as Raph heads toward the bedrooms. 

With a small turn toward the lab, Raphael responds, perking up a bit. “I can make waffles, ya know.”

The corner of April’s mouth twitches up into a sly smile. “Even better.”

⁂

The heat of the waffle iron and the smell of hot breakfast invite April and Donatello to the kitchen without Raphael having to say a word.

April and Raph drown their waffles in syrup, making sure every honeycombed nook and cranny is filled. The gooey, sweet topping spills onto their plates and their fingers as they eat. Donatello smothers his waffles in jam before sandwiching them together and taking his first hearty bite.

“I set up the dojo and main room first. But I have enough lamps for the bedrooms, too,” Donatello announces, tucking his half-chewed mouthful into his cheeks. The waffle muffles his voice as he speaks. “They’re working.”

“...course they are.” Raph never had a doubt that his brother would pull through. 

April eats with gusto. “Donnie says they’re putting out more heat than the last model. And, with a little TLC, they should be good for months.” She eagerly cuts into her waffle for another bite. “And these waffles are _amazing_.”

Raphael feels his cheeks flush at the compliment and drops his gaze to his food. 

At his side, Donatello swallows audibly. “You didn’t have to go up there alone, Raph.”

“I-”

Donnie interrupts before his brother can come up with an excuse that doesn’t sound like he ‘s blaming the younger turtles for their hibernation instinct. “What I mean is-” Donnie puts down his waffle sandwich “-thank you. Really. You shouldn’t have, but I’m glad you did.”

April smacks Donatello’s arm with the back of her hand. “Dude.”

Donnie clarifies, “I’m glad it worked out the way it did.”

April’s shrug is almost supportive in the way it’s paired with a smile. “It was a pretty good plan. Kinda.” 

“Yeah…” Raphael sits straighter, rolling his shoulders back and puffing out his plastron with a touch of pride. “I guess I did come up with a good plan.”

April holds out her hand, turning her palm over and back and it looks like she may be thinking about taking back the compliment. “Eh… I said _pretty good. Kinda_.” She elaborates, “You still coulda froze your shell off with nothing to show for it. And you got lucky that I work for a such a huge pet store chain that I doubt they’ll miss a few odds and ends from the back supply room. And-”

“Ok, ok, Apes. I think I get the picture.” But before Raphael’s posture deflates, he feels a strong pat on his back. He looks over to see his brother beaming at him.

Donnie chimes in. “It may have been a half-thought-out, bare minimum, reckless approximation of a plan, but you pulled through in the end.”

“A-ahem,” April clears her throat in demand of acknowledgment. “And…”

Raph fishes a steaming fresh waffle out of the iron and drops ito onto her sticky plate of syrup. "I couldn't have done it without ya, Apes."

April sits back, a warm-hearted expression gracing her features. "Well, duh." 


End file.
